


Curious, Wanting Thing

by TashaVick87



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Heavy Themes, Journaling, One Shot, Pining, Pre-Series Event, Secrets, post s5 fic it fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:03:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaVick87/pseuds/TashaVick87
Summary: ''I don't know what this is supposed to be? An outlet for my anger? A priest's confessional for my sins? No. No sins. There was no sin. Regret, maybe. But not over what happened. But over what might have been. Of course good ol' Frankie would never even attempt to ruminate on things the way I do, yet another thing for me to envy her on. She is the mother-figure my children love. The soul of the parties I gave. And it's always the same. And when that wretched crowd had dispersed and the beach house was empty yet again, Sol and Robert away to yet another one of their business trips...I took the joint she offered. I'll never forget the sweetness and the dizziness of the thing, like a nectar and a truth I had inexplicably denied myself for too long. Much like the remainder of the night...''





	Curious, Wanting Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Post s5 fix it, with a pre-series event. Really hope you like it. I know it's heavy, but...I feel like the read is worth it.

She doesn't think about it, not really. Well, not _now_. Back when it happened it was the first thing she thought of when she woke each day and the last thing to decorate her thoughts before she slipped into a martini-induced slumber.

The years had helped her build her _Frankie_ walls- as she liked to think of them - as the foundations for them were laid down way before the...incident. She refused to call it anything else. The fact that on solitary nights (and there were a lot of those) she'd dust off the memory and cradle it like a child didn't go by unnoticed either. One thing Grace Hanson excelled at was splitting herself in two. The Grace of _Say Grace_ , mother of two, businesswoman galore, she of the impeccable reputation and highest socialite existence. And then there was Grace behind closed doors, alone with her unresponsive children and Louise the revolver for company and a projector-like reel of memories playing on a loop in her emotionally distraught brain.

On the night the girls were home, and not at sleepovers or at camp or later on away at college, Grace would braid their hair, tuck them in, read them their favorite books. Brianna in particular liked it when Grace read Anne of Green Gables, and though her daughter would never admit it, it still made Grace happy to remember the excited sapphire glimmer in her child's eyes as she slowly gave in to the fatigue of the day and fell asleep.

It was only on rare occasions that her girls would be as cuddly and as amenable to her fussing, and Grace knew very well that she was to blame for their demeanor. She never knew how to be a proper, emotion-expressing parent. Hell, she'd heard it almost yelled back at her in Frankie's mannerisms, the way she'd swoop in and gather her girls close and the way they'd return her affection like they would never return Grace's. Not that Frankie ever rubbed it in, there were limits after all. But it never became any easier to look at.

She had no idea when the idea to journal occurred to her, but it was sometime in the years  _after_. It's funny how since it happened, she'd seen quite clearly the delineation between the Before and After. Sure, she was still the same Grace Hanson on the outside, snappish and callous when uncertain of how to proceed, haut-couture-enfolded 24/7, her own type of armor. But on the inside, her pain had quadrupled. Or rather, what she now recognized had been pain – over Robert's abandonment, or rather every single life choice she ever made – was now higher in intensity due to that. Singular. Night.

**_''I don't know what this is supposed to be? An outlet for my anger? A priest's confessional for my sins? No. No sins. There was no sin. Regret, maybe. But not over what happened. But over what might have been. Of course good ol' Frankie would never even attempt to ruminate on things the way I do, yet another thing for me to envy her on. She is the mother-figure my children love. The soul of the parties I gave. And it's always the same. And when that wretched crowd had dispersed and the beach house was empty yet again, Sol and Robert away to yet another one of their business trips...I took the joint she offered. I'll never forget the sweetness and the dizziness of the thing, like a nectar and a truth I had inexplicably denied myself for too long. Much like the remainder of the night...''_ **

Frankie was never one for beating around the bush. If she saw a child starving for a mother's affection, she'd be the one to provide it. If she saw a woman yearning for any kind of attention at all, even if that woman was Grace – _Unbelievably-Stuck-Up_ -Hanson, Frankie would be there.

The party Sol had forced her to come to, Grace's 45th birthday, had been bearable – only just, and when the crowd went home, she'd stuck around to help clean up, trying for once not to break a dish or spill anything on the tablecloths Grace seemed to hold so dear. At one point, during one of her trips to the kitchen to dispose of the wine glasses, she'd noticed a low, quiet hum had descended upon the beach house. Frankie could always tell such things, and this time, she knew she was decidedly alone. She ventured further out and onto the beach where she could almost feel the hostess's misery calling out to her some hundreds of yards away.

''Grace?''

The blonde didn't even flinch. She was either three sheets to the wind already or really didn't give a crap. Knowing well the woman's propensity for self-flagellation via entertaining, the first option seemed more reasonable, even though, now that Frankie thought about it, she hadn't seen Grace drink more than one glass of white wine that night.

She came closer, seating herself an arm's length from the woman. She had no idea why, but she knew she wasn't going to leave her. But she wasn't going to push her to talk either. She knew Grace well, even though they both liked to pretend otherwise. And with her, the words were like an ebb and flow. You have to be on the sidelines, rather than trying to be the moon coaxing them out. She would talk when she was ready.

A few minutes later, Grace finally looked at her, and Frankie's heart clenched so painfully, like a steel vise had grabbed hold of it.

''Grace, what-''

The blonde shook her head, the tears flowing freely from her eyes, her entire posture rigid.

''I don't...I can't talk about it...''

''Okay, honey...you take your time. I'll be up at the house, I was sorting some of the dishes, I know how you hate it when the mess is leftover for the morning.''

As she went to rise from the sand, she felt one of Grace's slender hands circle her wrist. The tender grasp implored her to stay, no words needed. So she did. She tried to focus less on the fact she'd noticed Grace had been losing weight steadily over the past few years, and the fact that the touch only reminded her of it. She pulled a joint from her pocket and held out her hand.

Grace hesitated only briefly before nodding fervently, full mouth set into a tight line. Frankie realized it was so devastatingly sad that it had to be this moment in which she realized just how beautiful her _not-really-a-friend_ was.

Frankie had always known, of course, it would be silly to say she was blind to the way men would look at Grace as she walked down the street or when she attended Sol and Robert's functions, but...this openness, the _deer-in-the-headlights_ , incredibly sorrow-riddled Grace was a first for Frankie. And she was pretty sure Grace had never let anyone else see her like that. Though Frankie couldn't flatter herself thinking she was the Chosen one. No, she just happened to be there.

Grace held her long, blonde hair back as she leaned over as Frankie lit the joint she held between her lips. Frankie knew the first few hits would take good hold, especially with someone as tiny as Grace.

''Easy there tiger, first times are always the most tumultuous.''

''Aren't they just.''

So much bitterness, fury and fear in a simple three words.

''Grace. I know you and I we don't always, well, we _never_ see eye to eye. You, you're set in your WASP ways, me, I'm more of a _let's see how the day goes_ kind of zen gal, but...that doesn't mean you can't talk to me. If nothing then because we're all alone here, there's no one to overhear and the sky is as clear and star-studded as I've ever seen it. And then tomorrow, when I come over to pick up the kids and take them to mine for their weekly play date with Bud and Coyote...we'll pretend it never happened, it was a fever dream. We're good at that right? Well, you are, I just learned from the best.''

Grace inhaled for the second time and passed the joint back to Frankie.

As she exhaled, she lay back on the sand, and Frankie could see her eyes were lost in the past. And when Grace spoke, she knew she would never look at her the same way ever again.

''Today is my birthday. And it is also ten years to the day that I...lost my first baby.''

_**''The words were…liberating? No one had known, not even Robert. Why hurt him with my body's ineptitude to hold onto life properly? No, my little girl's death was a cross solely unto me to bear and I did. I wish now that I had talked to someone before having Brianna and Malory, maybe I'd have learned not to fear being their mother, being so afraid that they would evaporate in front of my own eyes like their sister did. But, regret is worth nothing and costs a fortune. Either way, it was such a profound relief to me to feel Frankie listening. I had half-expected a barrage of words of comfort but she simply sat there - shocked, I could tell - but attentive and caring. Nothing could have broken me in that moment more than that**.''_

''I was four months pregnant when the doctor confirmed it. I had no idea, I was just there for my regular check up, but she had her suspicions and ordered a sonogram. I'll never forget her face as she looked at that screen and then at me. Well, she looked somewhat like you do now. She told me that there was nothing she could do, and that my baby was gone.''

Frankie lowered herself onto the sand and lay closer to the blonde. Still silent, she hoped her proximity would show the support she failed to verbalize. Grace's hand found hers and their fingers entwined.

''Robert was on that two-month trip to Venezuela. So, the doctor checked me in and induced labor.''

It was said so matter-of fact that Frankie knew it was anything but. She squeezed Grace's hand in hers tighter.

''I had her cremated and then I came here. This is where I stood when I saw her ashes taken by a breeze similar to this one, under a clear navy sky just like this...But...can I tell you a secret?''

Frankie nodded, leaning closer to catch Grace's ever-lower pitch, realizing that the child-like ring of the question was a sign the joint was truly kicking in. She was glad it muted Grace's pain at least for a while.

''I still have her with me.''

She motioned to her necklace, and Frankie realized it was the first time she'd seen that particular piece of jewelry on Grace. It was a silver locket engraved with the name she'd chosen for her child. _Adora_.

Frankie couldn't stop the tears then, and quick as lightning, she felt Grace's palms wipe them away. A smiling, teary-eyed, clearly high Grace spoke in all seriousness.

''Don't cry. I don't think my baby girl would have wanted us to cry? And besides, I can feel her all the time. I imagine she’d have looked a bit like both of her sisters. I wear this locket only on my birthday, and wear clothes that hide it. I couldn't take it if there were any questions. You're the first one I'd ever told this to...''

Frankie wasn't deaf to the silent plea in Grace's words.

''I won't tell a soul.''

The glint in Grace's eyes shone brighter and she smiled in gratitude.

''But, we do have to get you upstairs and into bed, it's getting colder and Robert would never forgive me if he came back and you were suffering from pneumonia after your first encounter with a doobie I provided you with.''

The joker-Frankie intended to diffuse a situation she knew Grace needed diffused. Grace smiled weakly and held out the joint for Frankie to extinguish.

**_''When we reached the beach house and I could see her ready to go home, something in me shattered and I found myself unable to breathe. I doubled over in agony, seeking air that simply refused to be allowed into my body. Strong hands then wrapped around my shoulders and I slowly started winning that age-old panic attack battle I was never that good at anticipating. I felt humiliated. I remember clearly debating if I should revert to the Grace I let people see or just stay in the shoes of the Grace I wanted Frankie to get to know. The latter won. With Frankie, Grace Two would have to battle Grace One for dominance for a long time to come.''_ **

''Come on, Gracie...let's get you to bed. I'll stay until you fall asleep and then I gotta run, the boys are with the neighbor and I said I'd be back by 2 am.''

Grace nodded and as Frankie watched her blindly follow a bathroom routine, she was stunned by the amount of meticulousness, the rigor, the self-imposed cleanliness bordering on obsession.

''Grace, come here, I think you've put enough cream on. Come on, let me tuck you in.''

**_''I fought it. Fought sleep, fought even getting into bed because I knew she would leave. And I never wanted anyone to stay more than I wanted her to stay that night. And when push came to shove, Grace Hanson knew how to get what she wanted, even though what exactly I was wishing for hadn't even been clear to me, let alone Frankie at the time.''_ **

Frankie was a kind and free spirit, and when she felt Grace's hand tug at hers from underneath the silk sheets she'd cocooned her in, she knew. The warmth of her skin, the tenderness in her gaze. It was the most honest Grace had ever been with her in all the time they'd known each other.

She swallowed against a tide of want and felt her heart rush a mile a minute. For a moment, it felt like she was having an out of body experience as she saw herself walk over, without an ounce of regret, towards the king-size bed Grace and Robert shared. She wanted the woman so much that she wasn't even fazed by the thought of her husband. Or of Sol, for that matter. All she could see was Grace's heart-broken face, the full pout she'd seen on numerous occasions used as bait for clients and business partners, now directed at her, in its truest, realest form. It was fear of the unknown, the desire to be bold, the urge to never feel alone again and all of it together was making Frankie dizzy. Grace slid to the side making room for another, willing body, and Frankie mindlessly gravitated towards her, because her heart was all the way in, and if Frankie ever listened to anything, it was her heart.

**_''It was nothing short of breathtaking. I had had many firsts before that. First kiss, first time I learned  of the pleasure I could give myself, first time with a man...but this..this felt so very soul-crushingly right that there was no space in my mind to think it was ever wrong. I'd always appreciated the scents she used in her cooking, or when she potted about in her garden and her plants would create a cacophony of perfumes, but now, when I allowed myself to openly enjoy all that this woman was, knowing, sadly, that this night was all I would get to have, I enjoyed them tenfold. Mixed with the arousal, it was addictive. And I know that even if all other memories should fade with age, the memory of her, on that night, will never be anything less than crystal clear.''_ **

Grace's hands twined around Frankie's waist and it was all the brunette could do to restrain herself from going in hard and fast. Instead, she felt Grace hover over her, the golden mane of hair spilling on the pillow around Frankie's head.

Grace's breath hitched, coated in tears as she tried to speak, shaking like a leaf. Frankie grounded her by sliding her palms soothingly up and down her rib cage.

''It's okay, honey…''

**_''Lovemaking was never a word I'd used in my mind when referring to the physical act of sex. Not with Robert, not with anyone. It was a functional way to relieve your hormone level and a means of procreation. But the instant I felt her inside me, I knew the liar Grace in me was hidden away, tucked in the back of my psyche, angry and mortified at being caught. Because the bliss, the euphoria and the very feeling of worship Frankie gave my body that night was beyond anything I'd ever imagined, anything I'd had ever allowed myself to imagine.''_ **

Morning came with a fervor unlike Grace had never known and the sunshine heated her eye-lids with an almost painful intensity. As she opened her eyes, so too was her brain open to the onslaught of memories of the night before. Turning to her side, she looked for Frankie only to realize that the woman was long gone and Grace was left with sticky thighs and a broken heart yet again.

And just like that, she was the old her again. The party-planner, business-oriented mother. She checked the clock on the nightstand. When she saw it flash 9 am, she sighed in relief. She had plenty of time to shower and greet the girls when they were dropped off after their sleepover.

As she stood there, under the scalding spray of water taking away any last evidence of her night with Frankie, she remembered the woman’s words. _''We'll pretend it never happened, it was a fever dream. We're good at that right? Well, you are, I just learned from the best.''_

And that afternoon, when Frankie arrived with Bud and Coyote (who were bouncing up and down at the prospect of their play date with her daughters) she obeyed instructions. Fever dream, Grace. Nothing to it.

And she smiled. And smiled. And smiled.And when the look on Frankie's face started resembling something Grace could tell herself was the woman's usual disdain for her, she closed the door behind them and got on with her life.

**_''She loved Sol deeply, and that is the number one reason I gave up any kind of hope. It was vile of me to rob her family of her and even more vile of me to keep wanting it every day. So, just like I did with the existence of Adora, I hid the love I had for Frankie under layers upon layers of work and distance and harsh words. Our night together hadn't healed me of my ill ways, after all. Maybe it even nourished them a bit, given the outcome. I cursed myself for not being able to do better. Maybe Adora was better off where she was.''_ **

* * *

 

_2019, Grace's birthday_

''Hey Grace! Bud called. Said that you need to come by the beach house and pick up some of your things. Apparently Kookey felt like a spring cleaning was in order, and she's going through some of your things, packing them up?''

''What are you talking about, I took all of my things with me when I left the-''

No. No. The one batch of things she forgot to take with her was that journal. She'd stopped writing it a long time ago and tried to forget all about it. Even now as she drove way past the speed limit, she could hear her realist self making fun of her.

_''Don't kid yourself, girlie. You wanted her to find it. Wanted her to read all your dirty thoughts about how you wanted her and couldn't have her and that's why your hurt her. She was only following your lead that day, and you let her.''_

* * *

 

It was odd being at the beach house. After Frankie completely shut her out after learning of her marriage, Grace couldn't blame her for wanting the house to herself. This was five months ago and she was itching to leave Nick and their so-called marriage the minute she left the beach. Not that the regrets hadn't started the minute she uttered that wretched _''I do''._

''Bud!''

Bud greeted her warmly, baby Faith on his hip. Grace cooed gently at her and then looked back up at him, question in her eyes.

''She's on the beach. Said you'd know where exactly she'd be. Might wanna hurry up, it's getting dark.''

Grace waved his hurry away, there was no way he'd know just how much she knew every grain of sand on that beach by heart. Especially in the dark.

* * *

 

Her stomach clenched in anticipation, but, she found there was no fear there. Finally, Frankie knew everything. It was a peaceful anticipation, like the kind she had when she knew (assumed) that she'd spend her whole life miserable with Robert. Now, it's exactly the same, only she would be with Nick. _Potato-potatoe_. At least, she'd hoped, she'd be able to feel Adora, like she always did when she walked that particular stretch of sand on her birthday.

But when she saw Frankie in the distance, and realized just how many times between then and now this very piece of shore was their own drama setting, she wasn't able to keep it together. She hurried through the grains of fine sand, almost like a magnet towards its perfect opposite.

''Frankie...''

As the woman looked up at her, Grace's eyes fell to the notebook in her grasp, the much-loved journal that had been the only thing to keep her afloat for a long while after that night.

''Frankie I'm sorry...so sorry...''

Hearing Grace's voice falter and shake the exact same way it did nearly 35 years ago broke both of them. Grace slid onto the sand, her knees unable to support her emotional weight.

She felt Frankie comb her fingers through her hair, sliding her hands across her cheeks, drying the tears.

''I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on, Grace. Still do, by the way. The best at everything you set your mind to. And when you set your mind to ignoring me, I knew there was nothing I could do to change your mind. But just tell me, after Sol and Robert...why keep acting like I didn't matter? I'm not that kookey, am I? I mean I know your husband likes to call me that-''

''Don't. Just don't say that word. I...I married him because...oh I don't know...it was probably the ever-lasting need I have in me to constantly keep hurting everyone around me, on some subconscious level! The same with Guy. Phil was different, he was a past issue that needed resolving but...Guy and Nick...they were another one of Grace Hanson's defense mechanisms. I couldn't allow myself to go through another night like the one we had only to have you disappear in the morning.''

''Grace, honey, I wouldn't have disappeared.''

''And I had no way of knowing that! You moved to Santa Fe for Jacob!''

''And moved back for you, you witch!''

Silence reigned supreme.

And Grace, the real, _Frankie-worshipping Grace_ resurfaced then after 35 years of being put in her place by _Liar Grace, Conformist Grace_ and above all, _Petrified Grace_ , telling them all politely to go fuck themselves.

''You did. And I should have...I should have known. I _did_ know, I just...it wasn't tangible to me, not like it is now when I'm away from you. Why am I like this, Frankie, what is wrong with me?''

The timid, scared question jolted Frankie and she hurried to take Grace's hand, as light and wispy as it was on Grace's birthday all those years ago.

''There is nothing wrong with you, honey. We are both just products of our time, reared by specifically atrocious circumstances.''

''I-''

Grace stopped herself before she could utter a single word more, but then realized that those days were over. The days of denying herself, repressing her wants, and by extension, Frankie's.

''I want to move back, if...if you'll have me?''

Frankie didn't flinch, like she'd expected the words. But that didn't stop tears of joy forming in her eyes.

''Always, Grace. Always.''

And just like that, rebirth. Unrestricted breathing. And when she kissed Frankie for the first time in almost four decades, it was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Joy and elation, fervor and giddiness, a cocktail of emotions making her swoon and clutch at the front of Frankie's shirt harder.

That night, the starry skies of Adora's final resting place saw her mother openly happy, loved and cherished the way she was meant to be in the first place. And as Frankie kissed her, Grace felt that golden-haired girl and the hippie brunette they once were join hands in some parallel universe, instantly happy in a place where their circumstances were just that less confusing and torturous. She smiled against Frankie's lips. The world could go round.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Any feedback is much appreciated! :)  
> xoxo


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